


These Moments

by privateerwrites



Series: Musketeer March 2021 [4]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, Family, Fluff, Sewing, cuddles together sorta, post-s2 but pre-s3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:01:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29843262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/privateerwrites/pseuds/privateerwrites
Summary: Musketeer March Day 4- "Hand it over"Louis has something that is not his, and so Anne takes him to apologize and return it ft some soft Constanne and Anne being a good mom
Relationships: Ana de Austria | Anne d'Autriche/Constance Bonacieux
Series: Musketeer March 2021 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2188632
Comments: 6
Kudos: 5





	These Moments

**Author's Note:**

> Aha!! Here we are!! This is my first time writing Constanne, so.. that, I guess? 
> 
> As I said in the tags, this is post- season 2 but pre- season 3! Enjoy!

"Louis."   
  
"Yes, Mama?"   
  
Anne raises her eyebrow at her son, who is currently clutching a bit of Constance's embroidery to his chest, trying very hard to look very innocent, but rather failing miserably.   
  
"Louis, is there something you would like to return to Madame d'Artagnan?"   
  
Louis looks up at her quizzically.   
  
"What do you mean, Mama?"   
  
"Louis," Anne sighs. "You know what I mean."   
  
Louis giggles, and then presses his lips together and glances up with big, round eyes.   
  
"Are you sure, Mama?"   
  
"Hand it over, Louis," the Queen says.   
  
Louis exhales a short, whiny breath, but sticks his hand out, the embroidery clenched in his fist, looking displeased and pouty.   
  
"Thank you, love," Anne tells him, and presses a kiss to his forehead. She takes the fabric out of his hand and folds it carefully, holding it so as not to cause any further creasing. "Shall we go return it now?" He nods, a little petulantly, and she takes his hand in hers. They set off down the hallways together, walking through the palace at a stately pace, managing, through the graces of God alone, to not come upon anyone more important than a maid.   
  
Soon, they are standing in front of the door to Madame d'Artagnan's rooms. Anne knocks softly, not wanting to scare Constance or interrupt her too terribly on her day off.   
  
"Constance? It's us."   
  
The door opens, and Constance is standing there, her hair a cloud around her shoulders and her smile bright and brilliant. She curtseys a little.   
  
"Your Majesty." She grins and bends down to Louis' level. "Your Highness." Constance stands again, easy and smooth and graceful, and Anne tries not to let her gaze linger for too long.   
  
"We've come to return your work to you," Anne says, keeping her eyes slightly above Constance's head so she doesn't have to think about how the light behind Constance lights up her hair makes it look like her face is surrounded in a halo of holy fire.   
  
She hands over the folded piece of cloth gently, and Constance laughs, bright and warm and _oh_ , Anne could live in her laugh, surrounded by the joy and beauty of it forever.   
  
"So _that's_ where it got to!"   
  
Louis bows his head a little, looking at least a bit remorseful.   
  
"Sorry, Madame, it just looked very pretty, that's all."   
  
Constance's grins widens. "Flattery won't get you everywhere, young sir, but I forgive you." She looks back up to Anne. "Would you like to come in?"   
  
Anne realizes, suddenly, that they've been standing in the doorway of Constance's rooms this whole time, and she laughs and nods. "If we wouldn't be too much of an intrusion?"   
  
Constance sighs and rolls her eyes. "Come _in_ ," she says firmly, and moves out of the way so they can enter.   
  
Louis is immediately drawn to the dress Constance is making out of a deep blue fabric. It’s draped across the back of a chair, and Louis wanders towards it, transfixed.  
  
"Be careful, now," Anne says as she follows him. She and Constance sit on the floor next to Louis as he looks at the dress. Constance hands him a couple of skirt panels that have already been sewn together, and explains what's happening on the fabric in front of him.   
  
"I want to try," Louis declares suddenly, and Constance smiles again, and Anne remembers why she would do anything for that smile, because her chest fills with warmth at the sight and she smiles too.   
  
"What would you like to try, Your Highness?"   
  
"Sewing! Like you and Mama!"   
  
"I've got just the thing, if you'll wait a minute, Highness."   
  
Louis nods enthusiastically and turns to Anne, his whole face glowing with that sort of excitement that children always seem to be able to conjure up, the sort that might shake them apart if they cannot do anything with it, the sort that makes them all the more entrancing. Anne loves these moments, these precious few hours she gets with her son, just the two of them and whoever they wish to see, not those that they are obligated to see.   
  
Constance returns with a long piece of blue fabric and a couple of ribbons and a small square of white fabric. Carefully, she sits cross-legged on the floor, and the Dauphin clambers into her lap. He watches with wide eyes as she explains to him how to make a stitch, and then lets him try.   
  
He concentrates intensely, his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth, and for a moment, he looks so _young_ that Anne just wants to hold him and never let him go, never let him grow up. She knows she cannot, though, so instead she settles for watching him sew together two pieces of fabric in Constance's lap, getting into a shaky but steady rhythm with the needle.

He's using a tapestry needle instead of one intended for sewing like this, but there will be time later, if he wishes, to learn with a real needle, sharp and dangerous. For now, Anne appreciates the concern for his comfort and just smiles and shakes her head at Constance when she mouths an apology for it over Louis' head.   
  
They sit there for a long while, until the sun goes down, and Louis has to return to the nursery and his governess comes to collect him. They leave, and Anne is left with Constance, alone.   
  
"Thank you," she says softly, and in this moment, she is not the queen, just a grateful mother.   
  
"You're welcome," Constance replies just as gently.

They kiss, slowly, and Anne feels a little piece of her soul settle into place. They rest their foreheads together and stand like that for what feels like eternity but is probably only a couple of minutes, breathing in each other. Anne wraps her arms around Constance, and Constance hugs her back and she lets her eyes rest for a second. Eventually, they pull away from each other, and with a kiss to Constance's hand, Anne slips out the door and into the hallway, a little more at peace.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos greatly appreciated!! As always, if tumblr is more your thing, I'm also over there at privateerstudies!


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